


We're Sorry for This Delay

by inheritanceofgeek



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Drabble, F/M, Fluff, Hot Single Bisexual Dads in Love, M/M, Single Parents, Trains
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-16
Updated: 2015-08-16
Packaged: 2018-04-14 23:08:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4583649
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inheritanceofgeek/pseuds/inheritanceofgeek
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Their train having broken down, relative strangers Bard and Thranduil find themselves stuck with nothing to do for six hours except perhaps break all social rules and regulations and *gasp* talk to one another! </p><p>The pair find that they have more in common than one might think at first glance.</p>
            </blockquote>





	We're Sorry for This Delay

**Author's Note:**

> So whilst holidaying in Canada, our train got delayed with us on it and so this was born! 
> 
> I'm glad to say that it was only stuck for about twenty minutes, rather than the six hours these two had. However, whenever my trains have broken down, I've never had a handsome man my age sit next to me - so it has certainly felt like six hours as apposed to the maximum I think which was two.
> 
> Shout out required for the lovely Sadieb798 for betaring this for me, you are wonderful <3
> 
> For those waiting on an update to "So This is Love" I promise you, it is in the works, it's just proving a bit more complicated than I first planned....

About half an hour away from their final destination in Dale, the train slowed to a complete stop. Ten minutes later a voice called over the tannoy: “We’re sorry for the delay to this service, there’s a problem with the train in front but we should be moving on shortly.”

 

A collective groan rolled out across the train as passengers exchanged rolling eyes, the only form of communication between strangers allowed on British transport.

 

Bard looked to the man sitting next to him, who he’d been politely ignoring for the whole trip. He nodded his head towards the front of the train and tutted. The man in question swished his long blonde hair behind him and raised an eyebrow. Bard rolled his eyes a fraction and they shared a smirk before going back to ignoring one another in favour of looking around them. Bard reached into his backpack and pulled out a book, whilst the man beside him pulled up a Sudoku app on his smartphone.

 

Hour One:

 

“I’m Bard by the way.”

 

“Thranduil.”

 

The two men smiled and nodded to one another before going back to what they had been doing.

 

Hour Two:

 

“Sorry for this extended delay to the service. The train in front has actually broken down and so we’re going to have to wait for the engineer to arrive to fix it before we can move on. Sorry for any problems that this might cause you.”

 

Thranduil let out an exasperated sigh and looked down at his phone. He’d grown bored of Sudoku and had ended up spending the time checking his email. It was coming close to 7pm though, and they didn’t seem any closer to leaving. He promised Legolas that he’d pick him up from archery at eight. Clearly, that wasn’t going to happen.

He tried to call him, but his phone beeped to inform him that there was not enough signal to make a call. He tried again and again, but nothing came of it.

“Shit.” He hissed, angrily dropping the phone into his lap, swishing his hair back behind him.

 

“Do you want to use mine?” Offered the man sitting next to him.

Thranduil looked at him, cocking an eyebrow and raking his gaze up and down, taking in his worn, scuffed coat, untamed hair and the smudge of dirt spread across the bridge of his nose. The phone he held out didn’t look that advanced at all, with large physical buttons rather than a touch screen. It even had a small rounded antenna at one end.

 

“I’m sure you’ll be having the same problem too,” simpered Thranduil. “Although thank you for offering. I’ll send my son an email to tell him I’ll be late. You’re more than welcome to use my phone should you yourself desire to inform someone of the stupidity of National Rail.”

Bard raised an eyebrow, pressed a few buttons on his phone and held it up just far away from his ear so Thranduil could hear it ringing.

 

“Da?” Asked a female voice down the end, she sounded distant but the sound was clear as a bell. “You almost here? You said you’d be back an hour ago?” Bard smirked at Thranduil and put the phone closer to his ear, blocking the girl’s voice from him.

 

“Hello Sigrid love. Yeah sorry, I’m going to be late. The train in front’s broken down and I can’t see them fixing it anytime soon. Can you put Tilda to bed for me? Tell her I’ll make it up to her tomorrow. Yeah. Grand. Okay Love. Speak to you soon. Bye.”

 

He clicked the phone off and a grin spread across his face as Bard took in the disgruntled appearance of the sleek businessman before him.

“Satellite phone,” he explained, throwing it into the air and catching it. “Worth its weight in gold when you run a delivery company. Who needs Candy Crush when you can actually talk to real life people?” He smiled brightly.

 

Thranduil ground his teeth slightly and bit the inside-cheek of his mouth. He regained his composure though and did not see himself as too big a man not to apologise for the very rare occasion that he was perhaps slightly wrong.

 

“I apologise for judging you.” He sighed. “It was not my place to do so. Would you please allow me to borrow your phone so as I may make a phone call?”

 

“Be my guest,” said Bard, handing him the phone, his amused smirk never leaving his face.

 

“Thank you,” said Thranduil briskly as he dialled Legolas’ number. He didn’t pick up at first and Thranduil had to sit there awkwardly as he dialled the number again, trying to ignore Bard’s infuriating smirk as the phone proved to be working perfectly, and that it was just Thranduil who was at fault. Eventually someone picked up.

 

“Legolas’ phone, who’s calling?”

 

“Tauriel,” said Thranduil, some-what surprised. “I didn’t think you and Legolas were training together today?”

 

“Oh, hello Mr. Greenleaf. No, I’m not training today, I’m just waiting for Kíli to finish up so as we can go and then Leggy--I mean Legolas’ phone went off. He’s busy shooting at the moment, can I take a message?”

 

Thranduil sighed, he’d always liked Tauriel, she was intelligent, talented, kind and well mannered, however he did not approve of this new boyfriend of hers. The Durins were trouble makers, always had been and always would be. Whilst it was true that Tauriel wasn’t directly involved in their on-going feud, he found himself inherently mistrustful of anyone so intimate with both sides. It was bad enough that Legolas was attending sixth form with them, he didn’t want to think of what would happen if he began to court one!

However, as they say, beggars can’t be choosers and Tauriel was the only person he knew was there who could drop Legolas off--having passed her driving test first time straight after her seventeenth birthday.

 

“Yes, could you tell him that I will be unable to pick him up today due to the train lines being even more useless than normal. The train in front has broken down and we have been stuck here for two hours already.” He huffed, “It’s absolutely ridiculous. Why strike all the time when you clearly aren’t any good at your job?”

 

There was an awkward silence down the end of the line, and Bard gave Thranduil a shrewd look .“Anyway,” he carried on ignoring both parties. “Can you take Legolas home for me after he’s done? I can reimburse you for the petrol.”

 

“Yes Mr. Greenleaf, that’s okay. I’ll have to check with Kíli but I’m sure he won’t mind waiting for a bit. Do you have an ETA for when you will be home?”

 

“Sometime around the end of recorded time.” He laughed bitterly and he heard Tauriel give a small chuckle.

 

“I’ll tell him then. Farewell Mr. Greenleaf, I hope your journey improves. It is a shame that there aren’t more people working to repair it--if only they hadn’t put a freeze on hiring. Anyway, see you soon Mr. Greenleaf.” She hung up before Thranduil could respond. He silently cursed the girl for her rudeness, though his heart wasn’t really in it.

 

“Thank you for the loan,” he smiled serenely as he handed the phone back to Bard

 

“Get through in the end then?” He grinned, taking the phone and shoving it back into his bag.

 

“Worked clear as a bell, thank you. Though I was unable to get a hold of my son, but I’ve left a message with his best friend, that should suffice enough for now. She can take him home.”

 

“Your erm, spouse, not able to pick him up then?” Bard asked, glancing down at the wedding ring Thranduil still wore.

 

“Elenath is dead,” he said simply. “So no.” Thranduil turned his back to the man and stared out of the window, leaving Bard to berate himself.

 

Hour Three:

 

“It never gets any easier,” said Bard at last, unable to stand the ice-cold silence that had erupted between them.

 

Thranduil turned to stare at him. “What doesn’t get any easier?”

 

“Living without them,” Bard replied simply. “You find your world, the one person who makes everything make sense, who understands you in a way even you don’t understand you. They make you a better person. Then one minute, you turn around and they’re no longer there. It’s like you’re no longer there. How can everything just carry on as it was before, when your entire universe has seemed to collapse? And then you’ve got your kid, or kids, and you see it in their faces as well and you don’t know what to do. How can you help them when you are in need of help yourself?”

 

Thranduil stared unblinkingly at Bard, he’d never heard someone put it all into words before. Bard smiled at him and put a gentle hand on his knee.

 

“It’s okay to not be over it. Just, try and find a way through it.”

 

“Who’d you loose?” Thranduil asked quietly, absentmindedly rubbing his ring.

 

“My wife, Kendra. Five years ago. Cancer. My youngest was only two at the time.”

 

“Hit and run. Six years ago. Legolas, our only child, he was just twelve.”

 

“Same age as my Sigrid.” Bard smiled, taking his hand away from Thranduil’s knee. Thranduil found he missed it there, missed that small sense of being grounded in the world. The touch that reminded him that he wasn’t alone in all this. That someone else knew what he was going through, and wanted to be there with him.

 

The pair shared a smile and went back to their comfortable silence, their thighs touching more than they had before as they instinctively shuffled closer together.

 

Hour Four:

 

“So, where are you actually going?” asked Bard. “Why did you get on this train in the first place?”

 

“Just coming home from work. I er, I work in the Mirkwood building up in the city.”

 

“Oh aye?” He asked, raising an eyebrow. “Doing what exactly?”

 

“Just managerial stuff. Corporate organisation, staff management, finding clients--that kind of thing.”

 

“You sound like you’re pretty high up there,” said Bard, impressed. “Didn’t expect to find the head of the Oropher Empire on a commuter train!” He joked, taking in the faint blush that spread across Thranduil’s face.

 

“Well, it is usually the quickest way to travel…”

 

“Shit! You’re not actually head of the empire are you?”

 

“Well, it’s not exactly an empire. We have a lot of sub companies and deal in a wide range of businesses but…”

 

“Fuck.” Bard said lowly, “I heard you lived near Dale, but you know. Shit. We work for you sometimes, you know. Laketown Deliveries. We send out all your tech and office supplies.”

 

“And I’m sure you do a fine job,” Thranduil smiled.

 

“Yeah, I guessed you weren’t responsible for the decision on which bloke you hired to shove water coolers across the city.”

 

Thranduil laughed, “You’d be correct on that one, my friend.”

 

Hour Five:

 

The pair of them had been chatting aimlessly for a bit about work and television, before they inevitably came back round to family. Bard had dug out some energy bars and a couple of crumpled packets of crisps, which when combined with Thranduil’s mineral water, made for a filling enough dinner.

 

“So if Legolas lives around Dale as well, then what college is he at? I’m not aware of any private ones about...”

 

“He’s at Rivendel Grammar,” Thranduil said proudly. Rivendel Grammar was a highly selective, although tiny, secondary school and sixth form. Parents did everything to get their children into it: from hiring expensive private tutors, to moving house, to outright bribery. However, the family who ran the school were wise to all the usual moves, and only students with real talent and potential were able to get in. Legolas receiving his acceptance letter had been one of the proudest moments in his life. The boy had worked so hard to get in, enticed by their small class sizes and sports facilities, that his look of excitement had been truly heart-warming.

 

“That’s where my kids are at!” exclaimed Bard excitedly. “Lucky things inherited their mother’s brains, not mine. Sigrid just started sixth form there this year.”

 

“Sigrid, Sigrid…” said Thranduil thoughtfully. “I’m afraid I don’t think I know the name… What’s your surname again?”

 

“Bowman. My son’s on the archery team.”

 

“Ah yes, that does ring a bell. Legolas helps coach them sometimes.”

 

“Ahhhh, Greenleaf! Okay, that makes more sense now,” Bard smiled, always happy to talk about his kids. “Bain speaks highly of him for sure--I’m surprised we haven’t met before, to be honest.” He frowned. “Two widowers with kids in the same school team, you’d think we’d have been introduced.”

 

“Alas,” said Thranduil, not quite meeting Bard’s gaze, “work is, busy. I don’t often have time to attend all of Legolas’s events…”

 

Bard smiled at him understandingly. “Never mind. We’ve met now.”

 

“Indeed we have,” said Thranduil, a small smile etching over his face as his eyes travelled up and down Bard’s body, taking in for the first time his handsome features and muscular physique. “Is your daughter on the team as well then? Or does she play some other sort of sport?”

 

“No, Sigrid’s an academic. She’s looking into going into nursing.”

 

“Ah, my son’s best friend, Tauriel, is thinking of doing the same. Though she’s looking to become a doctor.”

 

“She’s dating Kíli Durin, right?” Bard frowned. “He’s on the squad too?”

 

“They all are,” said Thranduil, as though it were a personal insult that Kíli and Legolas were on the same team for anything.

 

“Yeah, Sigrid’s dating his brother, Fíli.”

 

“I am sorry to hear that,” said Thranduil tersely. Brad laughed.

 

“They’re not all that bad,” he said, nudging Thranduil with his shoulder. “Their uncle’s awful, but they take after their mum: much more laid back and honest. You ever spoken to Dís? She’s on the PTA so…”

 

“I make it a matter of principle not to talk to any of the Durins.”

 

“Well, there’s a story there,” prompted Bard.

 

“Indeed there is, but it goes back for far too many generations to discuss now. Especially whilst sober.”

 

“Sounds like a pretty futile feud if you ask me,” shrugged his fellow passenger.

 

“You’ve no idea.”

 

Hour Six:

 

“Sorry again for the delay to this service, and any inconvenience this has caused. The next stop is Dale where this train will terminate. Please take all of your belongings with you when you leave the train.”

 

“Here at last,” smiled Thranduil as he stood to reclaim his briefcase from the luggage rack.

 

“Not a moment too soon,” added Bard, stretching his arms and giving Thranduil a pleasant view of his surprisingly toned stomach as his shirt rode up.

 

Thranduil waited for him on the platform as he swung his heavy backpack over one shoulder, waiting for the flow of angry and sleepy people to get off before him.

 

“Thanks to you, that wasn’t a completely awful journey,” smiled Thranduil.

 

“We should get stuck in metal tubes together more often,” laughed Bard as they made their way down the steps and out into the station car park.

 

“You know,” said Thranduil carefully. “If ever you fancy getting coffee sometime, I mean. We had a good time, didn’t we?”

 

“It is certainly the most fun I have ever had stuck for six hours on an unmoving train.” He winked.

 

“Yes. Well. The same. So if you want to talk about stuff in the future, then we should get coffee some time. Say, next week? Whilst the boys have their archery training?”

 

“Sounds like a date then.”

 

“Is a date okay?”

 

“More than okay,” replied Bard, looking at Thranduil with an almost predatory gaze.

 

“Okay. Well then. See you next week?”

 

“Next week,” nodded Bard in agreement.

 

“Here,” said Thranduil, digging into his wallet for a business card and handing it over to Bard. “My number’s on there. Ring me and we can sort out the details.”

 

Bard's hand brushed with his as he took the card from him, that roguish smile still spreading across his face.

 

“I’ll call you later then.” He said, hesitating nervously for just a moment before pecking a light kiss on Thranduil’s cheek and heading off quickly to his car.

 

Thranduil stood there for a moment, stock still, his pale cheeks flooding pink. At forty-five, he didn’t think he’d be crushing so hard on a relative stranger. Yet here he was: staring wide-eyed as he watched Bard’s car turn the corner and out of sight. He shook his head as though to dislodge water and made his way over to his own car. When he sat down inside, his phone buzzed.

 

“Thranduil Greenleaf, talk.”

 

“Told you I’d call you later,” said a voice down the other end of the line before hanging up.

 

Thranduil chuckled to himself as he saved the number into his phone. He didn’t know exactly what he’d gotten himself into, but he was sure as anything eager to find out.

 

 


End file.
